Quoted By:
"<span class="mu-s">The Mist</span>. It conjures...things, wherever it goes. Living nightmares tailored to your fears. Draws people into these woods however it can." Ishmael says with deadly seriousness. You feel uncomfortable, in the same way anyone would feel uncomfortable in the presence of what's clearly a crazy old man.
"Right, uh, Ishmael - I take it you've probably had some friends get lost in these woods when it gets foggy?" You ask, before pressing on. "That's natural. It's really easy to get lost when you can't see more than ten feet out. And things like bobcats and bears have a much easier time tracking us in those conditions than we have of avoiding them."
"You think I'm off my rocker, don't you?" He scoffs, lifting up his cane and jabbing it towards a window. "Take a look for yourself if you don't believe me. Just don't get too close, now."
You glance towards the window in question, seeing a thick fog start rolling in despite the relative clearness when you were outside minutes ago. You watch it for a few moments, and right when you're about to open your mouth to say that 'It's just misty', you spot something flitting around behind the trees.
It looks like a mosquito, but given how it disappears behind distant trees, it's definitely <span class="mu-s">not</span> any mosquito you've ever seen. It must be massive, the size of a man! With a spearlike needle protruding from its face that could skewer a boar, let alone a person.
"Holy shit. That's...that's gotta be an undocumented species or something." You say, getting the feeling of your skin wanting to squirm just by looking at it. You <span class="mu-r">hate</span> mosquitoes.
"Never seen it before in my life, son." Ishmael replies, tapping his cane on the floor as he walks a little closer to the window. Just close enough to reach out and tap the window lightly with the walking tool.
Something shifts into view from where it was lingering beside the house, making a brief lunge at the cane and scraping <span class="mu-i">claws</span> along the smooth glass window before it realizes its mistake. It looks like a fucked up mix between a human and a spider, eight malice-filled eyes and a maw full of fangs adorning its head. It scurries out of view before you can get a better look at it.
"That's one of mine." Ishmael comments, while you're standing there frozen - both fearful and dumbfounded. "Still don't believe me?"
The next thirty minutes are filled with you trying to come up with excuses for what you saw and Ishmael shooting you down. Eventually, he gets tired of your questions and orders you to sit on the couch, while he disappears into the kitchen and later comes back out with a cup of tea.
You drink it, naturally, and find the minty flavor to be quite enjoyable. You didn't take Ishmael for a tea guy - he seems like a coffee man. Your thoughts are proven right when you glance at his own cup and see a black sludgelike brew of the good shit, which he sips at despite the steam rising off it.
